


Little Princess

by Zyrielle



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, But ABO is not heavily emphasized, I just needed the ABO dynamicst for the story to work, Kindle My Heart, M/M, No Mating, Underage Will Graham, a little princess au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 06:01:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16112333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyrielle/pseuds/Zyrielle
Summary: Will Graham is Sara Crewe in this adaptation of A Little Princess.Very minor ABO Dynamics in play-it is only mentioned. No mating whatsoever.Inspired by the song "Kindle My Heart"





	Little Princess

**Author's Note:**

> Listening to Kindle My Heart on repeat while writing this. It inspired this story. It is a really beautiful song that brings me to tears. The Sitar is just beautiful in it. 
> 
> I used the ABO dynamics to be able to mix boys and girls in the same school. I do not think they would have allowed co-ed schools back in the day, especially when both genders to live in the dorms.  
> The academy takes in children from 8-16. Will is 14 when this story begins, and he is 16 at the end. Hannibal is a young doctor, 8 years his senior, so 24. This is not a heavy love story.

  
  
**As the moon kindles the night**

**As the wind kindles the fire**

**As the rain fills every ocean**

**And the sun, the earth**

**Your heart will kindle my heart**

**Take my heart**

**Take my heart**

**Kindle it with your heart**

**And my heart cannot be**

**Kindled without you**

**With your heart kindle my heart**

 

He weeps silently, cold and shivering on the grimy wooden floor. They had callously thrown him in the drafty attic room without any of his belongings. In this prestigious dormitory, money is everything, and Will had lost all of it along with everything else when- 

He sobs again, tears dripping freely down to the rags they gave him for clothes. He is at least grateful they let him keep his French doll, a gift from Papa, to console him after the loss of Mama. He held it in when they took his precious locket away, but broke down when they took Winston. The headmaster's sister at least had some mercy in her heart for him and let him have it back. They took everything else. He missed it now, the life he once had: the staff he considered family, the warmth and the jungles of India. Most of all, he misses his Papa. Clutching Winston tightly to his chest, he stares at the tear stained, rumpled piece of paper in his hands. It was a letter from a lawyer, bearing news of his father's demise. When he falls asleep on the floor, he dreams of India and of Papa. 

 

They are cruel to him. They feel that their pranks and punishments are vindication for the little omega who had the uncanny ability to read them and call them out. Some of them take pleasure in his misery. Will was once untouchable. Rich, intelligent, fearless, outspoken, and undoubtedly the most beautiful omega in Baltimore Academy for Young Omegas. But despite his privilege, he was always kind and fair to the others. He used to have friends, ones who stayed around because of his wealth, but they were gone now, and other more sincere ones to afraid of being bullied for associating further with him. Now, he was a maid, one with an open target on his back. Nearly everyone, from Headmaster Frederick Chilton, down to the omega who was always second place, Mason had it out for him. Then there was Randall, who hid his cruelty and animalistic urges under the guise of a quiet, and timid student. Will’s only friends were Abigail-the younger maid whom he shared rooms with, and Alana-the headmaster's adopted sister who let Will keep Winston. 

 

The physical labor and pranks are don't really hurt Will. He is still proud, jealousy and childish barbs barely register on his still-developing armor. He refuses to show them his pain, and he cares not for what they think. The ones that get to him are the quips against his father and against Abigail. From a pampered bird in a gilded cage that he once was, he changes. He sheds his feathers and grows teeth. He is no longer a coddled child. He becomes a young man with something to protect. Fall is ending and will soon give way to winter. Will and Abigail keep each other warm, drying each other's tears. He entertains her with stories of his past in India, the food, of their gods and goddesses- stories of killing, love and violence. She particularly enjoys his favorite story-The Ramayana. Some nights like this, he dreams of death. 

 

 

The blindfolded alpha who moves in next door is a topic of great interest to the school. His skin is decorated by scars, but it does nothing to diminish the man's dashing appeal. His voice is deep and raspy, his throat damaged but healed. He was caught in an explosion while out on an expedition and has lost his memories. There are nights when he has fits of rage, remembering the fire, explosions and death. Yet when he is coherent, he is warm and funny. The kind, but disfigured alpha is Francis Dolarhyde. He met Will through the fence one early morning, while Will is out on the lawns sweeping leaves. This becomes a daily routine of theirs, chatting every morning. 

The other young alpha watching over Francis is more mysterious. He is a young doctor with a heavy European accent. They meet when Will is locked in his room without food the entire day as punishment for defending one of the students who was once his friend-Margot against her own brother, Mason. He is lying in their ratty bed, humming an old song he learned in India when something jumps on the lumpy mattress to join him.

He opens his eyes, shocked to find large, golden eyes staring back. There is a black cat-a huge one studying him. He hears shuffling outside the window, it is shortly followed by a man, older than Will, but still young nonetheless. He is a bit flushed from the exertion, but his eyes flash to the cat and he gives Will the most beautiful smile he has ever seen on a person. The man bows and politely introduces himself as Dr. Hannibal Lecter. Will introduces himself in turn. 

 

 

"I see you have found Raven" 

"Raven?"

Hannibal motions towards the cat, who is now settling himself on Will's lap.  

"Oh so you're Raven." Will's hand finds its way to the cat's floof and he pets it admiringly. "He is very warm."

"Yes he is-and well, your room is quite chilly."

Will's eyes shoot up and he looks at his unexpected guest from head to toe. He is devastatingly handsome. His clothes fine, like a nobleman's. He wears mostly dark and somber colors, yet there is color-his neck scarf is a rich, shimmery paisley that matches the pocket square on his chest. The man is studying Will with gentle smile on his thin lips. 

Will smirks. "Well, you are adequately clothed doctor. I'm sure you'll live." He gets up, taking Raven with him. 

"Here. I'm sure you want him back. Raven is welcome to visit anytime he wants." Will says sheepishly, sad to see his new furry friend go. 

"Just Raven?" Hannibal looks at him with fond maroon eyes. 

Up close, Hannibal smells divine. Like warmth and spice, cinnamon, old books, smoke from a fireplace, a slight musk from sweat, and home. Will fights the urge to lean in and smell him some more. He blushes and clears his throat.

"I am not sure you want to be seen traipsing into the maid's room at a school, Dr. Lecter." 

"Then you shall have to indulge me and come visit us instead. I have books-on Indian Literature and treats, for Abigail." Will blushes further. So this man has heard him telling Abigail their nightly stories. It is this unfortunate moment that Will's stomach makes its presence known with a loud growl. 

The young doctor chuckles and digs his hands into his pockets. From one side, he procures an apple. From the other, small cloth package containing biscuits and nuts. 

"For you. Take it as a token of our friendship." He places them in Will's hands.  

Will, embarrassed but starving, takes one of the biscuits and bites into it. The spice on them smells the same as the doctor.  "Thank you. Oh wow, this is amazing. Did you make these yourself?"

"As a matter of fact I did. Cooking is a passion of mine. My kitchen is always open to friends-and for you, my library too." He takes Raven in one arm, and the other, he places on Will's curls. Will tries hard not to lean in.  

"Are we friends now?" Will asks, curious. 

"Well, Francis and Raven both seem to like you, so do I. Come by anytime Will. You will find the company there more enjoyable than what you and Abigail have here." He winks and ducks out of the window. 

"Thank you. I think I would very much like to be your friend." Will says, his heart fluttering. A warm, funny feeling spreading in his chest. 

Will tells Abigail of the encounter. She is thrilled. That night, he dreams of warm sunny fields, smoky fires, panthers and maroon eyes. 

 

 

They wake up to the smell of hot spiced tea and the sight of warm rolls with plates of sliced fruit and chocolate syrup on their table. Will rushes to the window and sees Raven sitting on the windowsill directly opposite to his. It was as if the cat was expecting him and meowed as if to say ' _right on time_ '. 

The next day, they have thick blankets, rich robes, and goose feather pillows. This time, Will walks slowly to the window and sees the young doctor speaking with Francis in the middle of the room, both seated on dark leather chairs. Both are engrossed in their discussion, but Will sees the hint of a smile on Hannibal's face. 

 

On his first visit, Will explores the library and is given Indian spiced tea and cakes. He thanks Dr. Lecter for everything. Hannibal waves it off and says it is a gift for him and says it is his and Mr. Dolarhyde's pleasure to indulge both Will and Abigail as their friends. Regardless, will profusely thanks them both for their kindness. The young doctor further indulges Will by making him treats and dishes that are reminiscent of India. He catches the doctor watching him several times, and it makes Will blush. He is moved that the doctor had been paying such close attention to him and the warm feeling in his chest grows. 

 

Dr. Lecter is only eight years Will's senior. He had advanced several years in classes due to his intelligence. Mr. Dolarhyde had become his benefactor as Hannibal was finishing medical school. Hannibal had been staying with his aunt when an unfortunate accident claimed her life just a year shy of him graduating.  Dr. Lecter was already a surgeon and had been studying to take psychology when Mr. Dolarhyde had his accident. Determined to return pay back his benefactor, Dr Lecter left the hospital he was working at to watch over Francis. The house they were staying at beside the school was one of Mr. Dolarhyde's properties, inherited from a distant uncle.  

He learns that the conversations he sometimes witnesses from their window are Francis' treatment. Dr. Lecter is treating Francis' mind. They have conversations to try to stop the night fits, help him get over the explosion, and hopefully regain some of his memory. Will is intrigued. He scans the books and the assorted things that litter the house. There is art, paintings of places he has only read and heard about, depictions of stories, there are also numerous trinkets, statues, figurines, globes, maps and a telescope. Will feels he could stay here forever. 

Today, they remove the bandages around Mr. Dolarhyde’s eyes. They are clear and beautiful as the blue sky. Mr. Dolarhyde cries, at finally being able to see again. He gives Hannibal a warm hug, elated to finally see him again. He also embraces Will, grateful to finally be able to put a face to the voice that he had been speaking with for months. Will gets emotional and tears up a bit, remembering the last time he was held so warmly by his father. He pushes the feeling down, determined not to dampen this joyous occasion. 

 

Will visits several times over the course of the next few weeks. It is during one of these visits that he learns Mr. Dolarhyde’s story. Mr Dolarhyde was working in a diamond mine, a joint business venture of his and a very close friend. An unfortunate explosion had claimed the life of his friend, gravely injuring him and making his memory foggy in turn.

Guilt ridden over having survived, he vows to find the child of his friend and raise her in his friend’s stead. Mr. Dolarhyde thinks his friend may have left behind a daughter and that she is studying somewhere in France. He speaks of his friend very fondly, making Will think that perhaps they were more than friends as he let on. Will is saddened to think that Mr. Dolarhyde, Dr. Lecter and Raven would be leaving soon, but wishes him the best of luck in finding the said daughter.

He goes home later that night, with a few cookies for Abigail, borrowed books, and smelling of warm spices. He sneaks in under the cover of night, careful not to make any noise that would alert the Headmaster or any of the other students. Unbeknownst to Will, a pair of eyes watch him from a window. He follows silently, and observes as Will enters the room he and Abigail share. Upon opening the door he spies the pretty, glittering gifts decorating the room. He retreats for now, a devious plan formulating in his mind. 

 

Will is woken by Abigail the next day. She has found an envelope stuck on their door, the words “Will” scribbled hastily in front of it. He opens it, curious. His locket spills out, gold chain and all. He is elated, but suspicious. There is no note nor clue in regards to who had returned it to him. He wears it, relieved to have the familiar weight around his neck. He hides it under his clothes. He wonders if Dr. Chilton had finally thought to return it, or more likely, Ms. Bloom. Either way, he did not wish to question the return of the precious locket.

 

Later that day, Dr. Chilton storms into the dining area, as Will and Abigail are serving lunch to the other students. He announces that his room had been broken into, and that something valuable had been stolen.

Will’s hand flies protectively to the locket under his shirt. Dr. Chilton catches the movement. He eyes the boy, suspicious. He roughly grabs Will’s hand and demands that he show what he is hiding. The cruel doctor does not wait for Will to respond as he sees a sliver of the gold chain around his neck. He moves to snatch the locket from his neck when Will roughly pries himself away. The boy cries that it had been returned to him, and that it was his in the first place.

Chilton asks for the name of the person who returned it to him, Will could not give him any. The boy explains that whoever returned it had put it in an envelope and stuck it on their door as he and Abigail were sleeping. The doctor laughs at this as he tells the boy that the locket was kept under lock and key in a drawer and that no one would have access to it other than himself. He then demands Will to stop lying and admit to being a thief. Abigail comes to his defense, declaring that the Will’s story is true as she was the one who found the envelope stuck to their door and there was no way Will could have done it as he was inside, sleeping.

Another voice then rings out, declaring that they saw Will sneaking into the Headmaster’s room that night, and that Abigail was his accomplice. That voice belonged to none other than Mason. Abigail then proceeds to argue with him that it is not true. Randall backs Mason, stating that he heard a noise outside his room last night and saw Abigail and Will sneaking around, and that it was not the first time. Mason then declared that he had been missing pillows and sheets, but did not mention it for fear he would be hurt by whoever was taking his belongings.

Randall states that none of the students would have any reason to take the locket as they had more beautiful things of their own and the only person who would be interested in the locket would be none other than Will himself.

 

Dr. Chilton drags both Abigail and Will upstairs to their room, threatening to have them both thrown out in the streets. He tells them they should be thankful that he was generous enough to let them stay and work at the academy, poor and useless as they were. Abigail and Will plead their innocence, but it falls on deaf ears. He opens the door to their room and shocked speechless. The bed is made with pillows, sheets and blankets even richer than his own. The table is dressed with satin, fine china with food, steaming hot-lunch awaiting Abigail and Will for their return. Frederick looks at both of them accusingly and declares them liars and thieves. He pushes them both into the room and says he will be calling the police to have them both arrested. He then slams the door and and locks them both in from the outside. 

 

They were silent, fear and trepidation settling heavily in their stomachs. The smell of the food filled the room and one stomach growl later, they eat in silence. Will breaks the silence first, saying that they will be alright, they are innocent and there is no proof that they had stolen anything. Abigail looks at him with forlorn eyes. She reminds him that everyone is against them, that lies and the necklace are all that the police need to incriminate them. He thinks of Dr. Lecter and of Mr. Dolarhyde, of asking for their help to prove that the items were not stolen-but he loathes the idea of involving them in this mess. They have been continuously showing him and Abigail great kindness, this is not how he wants to repay them. 

She begins to shake from fear. They huddle into a corner of the room, Will holding her in his arms, soothing her-as he always does during nights when they are punished harshly or when the nights get too cold, before they received the blankets and robes. They fall asleep that way, only to wake up later as the door clicks several times, as if being picked before swinging open. 

Two figures enter, one lanky, the other overconfident, both dangerous. The door is hastily shut behind them. They grab Abigail, shove her into the closet, and secure the door with a wooden stool propped against the carpet. She tries her best to werstle against them and bangs and pushes at the closet door from the inside. Randall stalks towards Will, like the animal he pretends to be. Mason plants himself on the bed, happy to watch. He lights one of the pretty candles by the bed and pulls out a knife. He heats the blade on the flame. Will can very well guess what he intends to do with it, as he likes to brag about the pleasure of branding their family’s pigs as they squeal in pain. 

 

Randall attacks him like a wild animal, nails curled like claws, teeth, legs and all. He is vulgar, telling Will of all the things he will do to him before they will take him away to prison. He promises Will will be scarred enough to remember him every time someone else from prison even dares to look at him.  He places Will in a chokehold, sneering at his bloodied face.

When Will begins to struggle for air, he cackles, and licks blood off a smooth cheek. When he starts talking about the things he will do to Abigail, something changes.

Anger awakens in Will. Randall may attack like an animal, but Will has been laboring a long time now. His young, lithe body betrays the strength and stamina it has gained at the tender age of 16. He struggles to get up, Randall refusing to get off his back. He slams his assailant backwards on the wall, hitting again, and again, and again. Even as the boy’s grip weakens and gives, Will grabs him and repeatedly slams him into the wall, until they hear a sickening crack, and the boy falls, unmoving.

Mason is  a bit shaken, he was not expecting to lose his crony so soon. He swings around his knife at Will, a poor attempt to be threatening. In the process however, he knocks over the candle he was using earlier. He stares frozen at the flame as it spreads over the carpet. 

The fire spreads quickly, licking up the satin tablecloths and thick rugs. Abigail smells the smoke and pushes harder against the closet door. The flames weaken the carpet and it lets her push the door wide enough for her to slip out.

There is a wall of flames between Will and Abigail. Her only exit is the door and his is the window. He grabs a butterknife and throws it to her. She knows how to use it. He tells her to run, to save herself, to warn everyone and that he will meet her downstairs.

As Will makes to pass through the window, Mason buries the searing hot-knife into his shoulder and pulls him back in.  He lands on the floor. Mason, eyes glittering with madness, declares this a game, one in which only one of them will survive. Mason lunges at him, Will uses his position from the floor to kick Mason hard. He lands on the burning bed, his arms barely a shield as his face kisses the flames. He screams.

Will uses this distraction to crawl out the window. He leaps through the ledges and clings to pipes when he almost falls. Not as graceful as Dr. Lecter when he watched him make his way across twice or thrice. His shoulder and arms ache, blood stains his shirt red. He reaches the other window and pulls it open.

The doctor is there waiting for him. He pulls Will in for a quick hug and he checks him for other injuries. Will's heart flutters. Hannibal hands Will a handkerchief and tells him to use it to apply pressure to his wound. It is paisley and smells wonderfully of him. He hastily tells Hannibal what happened, about the two injured boys he left behind. The young doctor gives him a look, one he cannot read. The doctor sighs and tells Will he will take care of it. He then instructs Will to find Mr. Dolarhyde and to stay by his side no matter what.

Will watches as the doctor gracefully skips through the edges of windows, and ducks into the flaming inferno he just came from. He is worried but has complicit faith in the doctor and does not want to disobey him. He goes downstairs and finds Mr. Dolarhyde visibly shaken in his wheelchair. He had been watching what transpired through the window in the study. He had been looking at old pictures when the fire began, but now the photo album lay in his arms, forgotten. He looks at Will, eyes wide, somewhat relieved that he is alright but then his eyes settle on the blood. Whatever semblance of coherency Mr. Dolarhyde has at that moment is left in tatters. He is gone, back into the mines. 

Will has an inkling of what was happening to Mr. Dolarhyde but there are too many things going through his mind to pay heed. He mutters his apologies with half a heart and mind. He worries over the kind doctor, if the boys he left were still alive, if Abigail alright. He gets the answer right away as he hears her shouting outside. He looks outside the window to see her being dragged by the police towards their vehicle. At this sight, Will feels his heart drop. He had to save Abigail-or go with her. He cannot let her go alone take the blame for everything. Dr. Chilton was there, cursing at Abigail, calling her a thief and an arsonist, telling the police they did this to get back at him and practically orders them to find the other thief-Will. Something dies in him. He would have to say goodbye to his beloved friends sooner than he thought. 

Will looks back at Mr. Dolarhyde. He kneels in front of him, eyes pooling with tears. Pulling his locket over his head, he places it in Francis' hands, which are limp on the open album on his lap. 

 _"Keep this for me."_ He weeps. _"I cannot bear to let them take it away from me again."_

There is a strong knock on the door followed by a gruff and agitated voice demanding to open the door-it is the police. They know he is here. 

Will gets up, resolute. He will not burden Mr. Dolarhyde with his troubles. He gives his friend his last hug, tight and desperate. 

He tries to be strong as he says _"Thank you for everything and goodbye Mr. Dolarhyde."_ He drags himself to the door. 

They grab his arms and drag him through the courtyard. The entire is school is outside, evacuated due to the fire.

Will tries to reason with them. Saying he is innocent, and that he never stole anything his life and nor would he burn down the school. 

His cries fall on deaf ears. He is already guilty in their eyes.

Dr. Chilton had spent the better part of the afternoon giving his statement at the station, before the police came to the academy. 

 

He is shoved to the ground, on his knees, beside him, a silently crying Abigail. They put handcuffs on them both. 

 

 

_Francis looks at his lover laying on the ground, gasping for breath. His shirt was muddy and red with blood. He gently places Richard's head on his lap, carefully running his fingers through the messy mop of dark curls, checking for damage._

_"Hang in there Richard. Help is coming soon."_

_"I don't think I'm going to make it Francis."_

_"Don't you dare say things like that to me. We'll make it back and you can finally introduce me to your son."_

_"Ah yes, my little princess." Richard always spoke fondly of his son. In the past, when his wife was still alive and very much pregnant, Richard said that he had wanted a daughter he could spoil and call his princess, but also wanted a son as an heir. He was very pleasantly surprised when he got an omegan son. His precious child was all he had when his wife passed. He got a son to name all his investments and properties to, and a beautiful omega he could coddle and spoil to his heart's content. He was everything he could ask for, the best of both worlds, his *******._

 

Pain sears through Francis' head as the name escapes his memories. 

 

" _You must meet him, but I won't be able to introduce you I'm afraid."_

_"Hush love, save your strength. You'll get a beating from both of us yet."_

_Richard places a hand on Francis' cheek. "Promise me you'll look after him."_

_"Of course love. We will. Together."_

The second explosion bathes the flashback in bright orange flames.

 

The last thing Francis sees is Richard's face. His clear blue green eyes with specks of gold framed by rich dark curls-no different from the boy's who just left the room a few moments ago.  He looks down at the pictures. Richard is beaming at him with his arms around Francis, their last picture together before the expedition to the diamond mine.

His hands clench around the locket the boy just left him. It is familiar-Francis helped Richard select it as they were looking for engagement rings. Richard had proposed when they found the first diamond. Francis was heaving-so many memories coming back to him now. 

He opens the locket. On one side is the kind smiling face of a woman. On the other, a younger looking Richard, and in his arms, younger still, the very same boy who placed the locket in his hands. 

He had Richard's eyes and curls, but his mother's lighter hair and dainty lips. There he was, Richard's little princess, his darling-

 _"William"_ Francis breathes his name, just as Richard did in his memories. 

Hannibal enters the room, just as Francis wakes from his reverie. 

"It's him Hannibal. Richard's son." He hands him the locket. 

"So it is him after all. You have found him now. What are you going to do about it?"

Francis struggles, but he manages to get up from the chair. He wobbles a few steps, once he has found his footing, he rushes out the door.

He catches up to them right as they are putting chains around Will's wrists, Dr. Chilton standing over him, angry but smug that the "culprits" have been captured. 

Francis growls at them and they jump, he demands a moment with the boy. The police captain, Jack was speaking with Hannibal, and ordered his men to give them space. 

Everyone backs off except Chilton. Francis places his hands on Will's shoulders, looking at Will as if he was seeing him for the first time. 

The look Will gave him was so much like Richard's that Francis nearly chokes on his words. 

"Will-" 

"I am sorry for getting you involved in this Mr. Dolarhyde. Please don't-"

Francis raises his hand to silence the boy. 

"William Graham, your father, Richard Graham was my business partner, and... very close friend. I was-I was there when the accident happened." He chokes a bit. "I was there when he passed." His eyes water. 

Will looks at him, stunned. 

"You're his son. You-you are the child I've been looking for." 

"Mr. Dolarhyde, I don't know what to say."

"That diamond mine was a joint business venture. It's a huge success. Your father wanted to name you his heir, but the explosion... I promised your father I'd take care of you."

"I'm sorry, what does that mean? "

"You've already been part of my family for the last few months Will. Time to make it official. You're going to live with me and we're leaving this god-awful place."

Dr. Chilton chooses this time to interject, furious.  "You can't do that! He's a criminal! He should be locked up to rot in jail!" 

"Actually Dr. Chilton, the locket was rightfully his. You, on the other hand, had no right to take it from him."

Hannibal and Jack approached them. 

"The items in their room were gifts from us. William never took anything that was not his."

"But the fire-"

"One of the two boys Dr. Lecter carried downstairs were responsible for that- Mason Verger, he's still in quite a daze due to smoke inhalation I believe. The other one is still unconscious. Which brings to question, Dr. Chilton, how did those two boys get inside the room where you claimed you had 'secured' both Mr. Graham and Ms. Hobbs? "

"That I-I cannot- This is ridiculous! So now it has all turned against me? You evil child. This is all your-"

A loud rumbling noise interrupts Dr. Chilton and immediately after, a huge portion of the roof and brick wall come tumbling down. Hannibal is quick enough to carry Abigail out of the way. Francis has Will in his arms, and Jack is on the ground beside them, all away from the burning avalanche. The only one missing was- 

"Dr. Chilton!" Jack motions for his men to help get the man out from under the burning rubble.

  

Will pulls himself out of Francis' arms and faces him.

"Mr. Dolarhyde. I would agree to coming to stay with you-but only if we take Abigail with us." 

"Of course dear child, of course." Francis cups Will's face in his hands, marveling at the sea foam green eyes he thought he'd never get the chance to see again. He runs his fingers through the dark curls, awed at the softness in them. He really was like Richard in so many ways. He envelops Will-no, his son in a bone crushing hug. 

Will looks up to see Raven in Abigail's arms. She and Dr. Lecter are watching them both, smiling. 

"Did you hear that Abigail? We're sisters now." She rushes in to join the hug.

Dr. Lecter walks moves them. He is holding something behind his back. 

"I believe this is yours." He holds out a doll.

Will feels his chest bursting, he cries again. "Winston! Oh Dr. Lecter, thank you! Thank you!" 

"Call me Hannibal, please. Raven had followed me into the room and carried it out with him while I took the boys to safety." 

"He is a very smart cat. And doctor, thank you for helping me back there." 

Dr. Lecter gives him a meaningful look. Will blushes and looks away first. His chest feels warm and full it he thinks it could burst.

"Agent Crawford, I believe it would be best for my patient and his children to go back indoors. I must treat them for any injuries. You can take their statements from there."

"Of course doctor." 

 

 

The school building burns down. Mr. Dolarhyde, has offers to purchase and rebuild it with Ms. Alana Bloom as the new Headmistress. 

Mr. Dolarhyde takes his new family to India, where they explore the places of Richard's past, where Will spent most of his childhood. 

Dr. Hannibal Lecter and Raven go with them of course. 

 

 

Fin. 

 

 


End file.
